I'm in Warhammer, please don't praise Doraemon

Chapter 598 He picked up her gold ring
A brown-skinned boy danced barefoot in the war-torn wheat field, singing a moving song:
Holding a gold ring, He asked slyly—

"—Tell me, Shou Guizi, if I were to transform into a tiny insect and hide within this precept, would you still be able to find me?"

Before the brown-haired youth, a tall, bald man danced alongside her, wielding a warhammer as if fighting alongside and clashing with the youth. He sang in a clear, resonant voice:

Shou Guizi replied with an inscrutable expression, "Even if you were to turn into a grain of salt in the vast ocean, I would still find you."

The brown-haired boy smiled and continued singing: "The Lord of Mankind chuckled: 'You always love to play riddles like this, tell me, can you really see me?'"

"When I remove my golden armor and crown, am I no longer an emperor?"

I can see you.

The bald man responded with a loud singing voice:
"I see you!"

"In the silence of breathing!"

"In the fleeting moment when tears welled up in his eyes!"

"In the shimmering light before the waves break!"

"In the tidal stillness of the universe after the sound of the conch shells has faded!"

"The Lord of Mankind is Silent," the brown-haired boy continued in a clear, woman-like voice, "and gently picked up her gold ring."

The brown-haired boy gently placed the gold ring on the bald man's finger: "It's yours, centaur!"

Seeing this, a Holy Blood Angel warrior finally couldn't help but ask his company commander:

"My lord, do we really have to watch this bunch of damned Spirit Race clowns?"

“It’s a clown’ who specializes in psychic abilities.” The company commander said, his face twitching. “These bastards claim that the audience is an indispensable part of their drama, and that we are the most suitable audience for this show.”

Watching Hilandri Veilwalker, who claimed to be dressed as the Emperor, dance with the bald man who was clearly representing Horus, the Blood Angels company commander clenched his fists.
What troubled the Blood Angels company commander even more was that he had to admit he actually saw a hint of the Emperor in Hilandri Veilwalker's portrayal.

It was as if the Emperor had truly manifested himself through the Eldar performance in the body of Hilandri Veilwalker.

This made the Blood Angels look like they were sucking blood from the Nurgle cultists.

Just then, a blinding radiance appeared on the horizon.

The light was dazzling like brilliant gold, but it did not bring people a sense of solemnity and magnificence. Instead, it brought a sense of deathly silence, calm, and a self-destructive impulse.

“The Dark Lord.” Hilandri Veilwalker trembled slightly as she gazed at the approaching warp energy in the distance.

I don't know whether to say that the human race is lucky or unlucky.
Unfortunately, their race breeds the most utter destruction; they are the Dark Lords born from the end and death.

If the Eldar still have a glimmer of hope when facing the Slaanesh, then facing the Dark Lord, humanity will only face the prospect of becoming a complete sacrifice.

But humanity is also fortunate.

The Dark Lord refused to ascend, instead sitting on his golden throne, restraining and sealing himself, trapping himself between life and death, stuck at the very last moment of his ascension.

But this good fortune applies only to humanity itself, allowing humanity to continue existing as the dominant species in the galaxy for another ten thousand years.

That was incredibly dark for the other races in the galaxy.

For ten thousand years, humanity, as the dominant species in the galaxy, has been immersed in a vortex of destruction and self-destruction. The emotions generated within this cycle have perfectly nourished the Dark Lord, making his power ever stronger.

Although the Eldar were once the dominant race in the galaxy, their population was ultimately too small, and the time they spent indulging in extreme debauchery was relatively short compared to their racial history. Therefore, the Slaanesh, the offspring of the Eldar, were the weakest of the gods.
However, the Dark Lord, born from countless sufferings over ten thousand years, was already able to overpower Slaanesh and Nurgle even before his true birth, and was even stronger than Tzeentch. He was on par with Khorne, the Blood God who had been nourished by countless wars.
If He were to truly be born, even the gods would likely be unable to stop Him, and would only be able to let Him destroy all things.

Humanity thus hijacked the entire universe, forcing even the warp gods to remain vigilant and dare not cross the Emperor's line, leading him to rise directly from the golden throne and destroy everything.

This was originally just a painful, slow death; the ruler of humanity would eventually succumb to the strain, unless an unexpected hope appeared.

And indeed, humanity's hope was realized.

What kind of luck is this for humanity?
As an Eldar, Hilandri Veilwalker could only feel envy.

Wait, something's not right.

She's a psionic specialization subhuman, what does she have to envy? She's not a spirit, she's human!

By the God Emperor! By Saint Doraemon!

Hilandri Veilwalker took a deep breath and began to prepare for the warp tide that was engulfing the entire planet.
The warp tides contained no power from the other four gods, only the Emperor's scorching psionic energy.

However, this does not mean that this subspace tide is safer.

That destructive and self-destructive psychic energy is extremely oppressive to anyone's mind.
Hilandri Veilwalker believed that anyone with basic warp knowledge would not attempt to forcibly manipulate this energy.
Unless one possesses an extremely strong will, one will inevitably be affected by the intense self-destructive emotions within, leading to cracks in one's spirit and soul.

The play that Hilandere Veilwalker just performed was guiding this power through the power of acting.

Even so, the moment she approached that psychic tide, a chilling, unbearable darkness still welled up within Hilandri Veilwalker.
She twisted and turned desperately, forcing herself to perform, barely managing to control the tide as it crashed into the nearby black stone spire. A mournful wail erupted from the spire; under the impact of the intense warp energy, the spire's polarity reversed, transforming into an amplified warp under the control of the Emperor's psionic power.

In an instant, this subspace energy transformed into scorching flames, engulfing all the space undead on the entire planet.

Then, a subspace rift, shimmering with intense golden light, was torn open from the void and spread in all directions.

On other key planets at the edge of the Neferim Sector, Digglis, Mephisto, and Keraprin, among the Imperium's most powerful psykers, began doing similar things.
Their spiritual energy, previously suppressed by the Spirit Exorcising Dead Zone, surged forth, guiding the Emperor's spiritual energy to crash into the black stone spires, reversing the polarity of the black stones.
A chain reaction began to occur. The warp energy that had been suppressed under reality gushed out like springs bursting through the earth's surface, instantly tearing out several warp rifts in the Neferim sector, which were hideous and terrifying.

Inside his own tomb ship, Shemokh, who was slowly reassembling his body using the resurrection protocol, calmly watched the scene before him.
The edge of the Exorcism Dead Zone is collapsing, and the black stone spires on many important node planets have had their polarity reversed.
The disintegration of the anti-supreme heavenly positions at those locations amplified the subspace, summoning golden subspace storms that enveloped the entire Spirit Exorcising Dead Zone.
Even those subspace rifts are attempting to penetrate deeper into the Exorcism Dead Zone, severing the entire Exorcism Dead Zone.

On those planets directly ripped by the warp rifts, countless undead were bathed in golden flames, instantly turning to ashes and vanishing.

On planets that were not affected by the subspace rift, strong subspace reactions also began to appear.
A group of human Astartes troops, engulfed in flames and resembling an army of the dead, suddenly appeared on the battlefield and launched a sneak attack on the undead forces, beginning to uproot the black stone spires that had not yet had their polarity reversed.

It seems that there are people among humanity who have an extremely deep understanding of the structure of the exorcism dead zone.
Who is it?
Allah Kel?

Tarasin?
No, it shouldn't be either of those.
Could there be a traitor among the Silent King's men responsible for exorcising spirits from the Dead Zone?
Shemokh lowered his head slightly in thought.

His contract with the Silent King has ended.
As agreed, he was tasked with guarding a node planet. Although he ultimately failed, Shemoch believed it wasn't his fault.
If Xerath hadn't interfered and sent a Burner, it wouldn't have been so easy for humanity to breach the outer shell of Blackrock Spire.
This was Xerath's mistake, how can you blame Shemoch?
Hmm, on closer thought, could the spy be Xerath himself?
No! The Silent King must pay the full amount stipulated in the contract. It's obvious he tricked Shemehe this time.

As for humans, Shemoch harbored no ill will towards them.
Xerath's intervention, using the Death Seal and the Celestial God, has already humiliated Shemoh enough. If he were to seek revenge on humanity, wouldn't he be utterly shameless?

not to mention,
If Shemoh's guess is correct, the human girl who was her opponent should be near death, and he has nowhere to seek revenge.

Shemoch's consciousness stirred slightly, connecting with the Netherworld construct he had left in a pocket dimension on the previous node planet.

He saw the human woman named Jeanne.

Her body was mangled and charred, like a piece of charcoal burned by a fire. Her head was shriveled, her eye sockets were sunken, and her eyeballs were gray and black. She lay there on the battlefield where the red sand was swirling.

Shemohe shook his head slightly. He had warned her long ago that blind faith in gods would not end well.

This is also the difference between humans and the undead.
No matter how many times, as long as the resurrection protocol is not destroyed, the space necromancer can upload its memories and will again and again, and live in a completely new body.

Human life is ultimately fragile, lasting only a fleeting moment; once dead, it's gone.

Shemerh sighed inwardly, feeling a faint sadness for the poor girl's fate.
This is because he thought of the past of the fearful dead, and of the destruction that came from their blind faith in the gods.

This poor girl ended up in such a miserable state because she believed the gods would protect her; whether their so-called gods even exist is questionable.

Click————

Suddenly, the sound of a door opening echoed across the battlefield, which was covered in red sand.
A red and pink wooden door suddenly appeared beside Jeanne.

The Astronauts, who were kneeling beside Jeanne, praying before her dying body, held their breath, almost afraid to breathe.

Even the Astral Army medic who was about to rush forward to try to save her stopped in his tracks, took a few steps back in reverence, and knelt on the ground.

The red and pink wooden door slowly opened, and only a blue metallic figure stepped out.
The figure was round and fat all over, with a head that was almost a big ball. It had no ears, and its face looked like a raccoon. Its whole body was painted metallic blue, and it wore a semi-circular pouch on its stomach, making it look rather cute.

He simply walked calmly, step by step, to Jeanne's side.
Jeanne, lying on the ground, barely alive and extremely weak, slightly raised her withered head, opened her eyes, and seemed to be trying to look at the blue figure.

The round, blue metallic figure remained silent, simply extending a round hand gently toward Jeanne.
Jeanne also gently raised her arm, extending her withered index finger, revealing carbonized bone, and gently reaching towards the round hand of the blue figure.

The collision of round hands and fingers created a ripple in the subspace, instantly bringing death to Jeanne. Then, life and death were reversed.

Her flesh began to regenerate in the blink of an eye. The original burns disappeared completely, her body was no longer shriveled, and her skin began to cover the newly grown flesh. Her eyeballs in her shriveled eye sockets began to grow back like lychees, and in the blink of an eye, she was completely restored.

Even her tattered linen dress was repaired in the blink of an eye and draped over her shoulders.

She blinked gently, feeling her fully recovered body, and stood up lightly from the ground, standing beside Zhou Yun.

The Star Guardians and Black Templars watched this scene from all sides. First, there was a moment of silence accompanied by heavy breathing, followed by deafening praise and hymns to Doraemon.

Hobian White Deer stood on a small hill not far away, gazing at the round, blue figure in the distance. Just then, the figure turned its head slightly and looked at him.

Horbian was stunned for a moment, then his face lit up with joy, and he shouted, "Champion!!!"

Saint Doraemon, or rather Zhou Yun, smiled and waved his round hand at Hobien.

Then Zhou Yun gently turned his head, looking in a direction he remembered. He knew that in that direction lay a pocket dimension, where a Dharma Emperor was watching Him through a Netherworld construct hidden within that pocket dimension.

King Semerh watched this scene in silence, unsure how to comment on it.
Is Doraemon really able to work miracles? Whose god is so reliable?

Just as he was finding this scene incomprehensible,
He suddenly saw a golden spark burst forth from his still-healing body.

Bah! ! !

(I'm not feeling well today, my head is really dizzy, so I'll just post this 4,000-word chapter for now. I'll rest and see if I can write another chapter.)
(End of this chapter)